Stay
by L'esprit
Summary: He knows that he will never stay. And yet, every night, that basement window remains unlocked, and he keeps hoping that this will be the time the phone doesn't ring, the time he stays. Because Kurt Hummel doesn't stop hoping. Begins pukurt, ends Klaine.


_This idea has been floating around in my head since I started working on **I'll cover you. **I just hadn't gotten around to writing it yet. But now I have, and I enjoy it, actually. I hope y'all do, too. It is, by the way, based on the song **Stay** by Sugarland. If you've never listened to it…now might be a good time. It's beautiful._

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own Glee nor anything else you may recognize._

* * *

><p>It was nighttime again, and his house was silent. He heard only the sound of quiet breathing mixing with the sound of his own heartbeat thudding in his ears. He was comfortable. His head was resting gently on the chest of his companion, relishing in the feel of fingers running through his mess of hair. His room was dark besides the glowing red numbers on his alarm clock. He squeezed his eyes closed as another minute slid by, wishing, hoping, praying that the tell tale ring, the vibration wasn't going to come. As long as he closed his eyes, he could kid himself into believing that tonight would be the night everything was changing.<p>

That didn't last for long.

A phone rang out, lighting up the darkness. He sighed as a hand reached over and yanked the phone from the nightstand.

"Hey, babe…yeah…of course…yes, I'll be there in just a minute…I'm just finishing something first…yes, okay…okay…see you then…bye."

Silence again.

"I have to go," the voice is almost regretful. He sits up, pulls his shirt quickly over his head, then leans back against his headboard.

"Okay," he whispers. There's another sigh, this time from the boy sitting next to him. Fingers run through his hair, and lips are brought to his ear.

"I'm sorry."

He resists the shiver running down his spine.

"I know."

"It won't last for much longer."

"Okay."

"Kurt, please, just…" he trails off. Kurt bites his lip. He's waiting for it. Waiting for him to call back and say he's not coming, waiting for him to stay. He wants it so badly.

It doesn't come.

"I'll see you tomorrow," is what he mumbles instead. There's shuffling, clothes being pulled on, feet shoved into shoes. A hand squeezes Kurt's knee gently before the basement window opens, Puck clambers out, then closes it after him.

And he's alone again.

He heaves a sigh, lays back down in his bed, and curls into himself on his side, waiting for the tears that stopped coming a long time ago.

* * *

><p>When Kurt walks into Glee club the next day, Puck eyes him carefully, and Kurt feels himself heat up from his forehead to his toes. He wants to look away, but he can't.<p>

He never can.

Instead, he calmly walks to his seat next to Mercedes and sits down, trying to ignore the gaze burning into the back of his skull.

These days in Glee club are nothing new for him, the nights he's left alone are nothing new. The whole concept is insane, he understands that, but for some reason, he just can't lock that basement window. He can't turn away.

Kurt shakes his head lightly, trying to rid himself of Puck-centered thoughts and focus on whatever Journey lesson Mr. Schue wants to teach them this week even though his mind yearns for that ever-comfortable section of thought.

It's all a circle, Kurt realizes.

* * *

><p>"Kurt? Hey, Kurt?"<p>

Kurt snaps out of his thoughts and looks directly at Blaine, his hazel eyes ridiculously full of concern. He didn't even know eyes could be that expressive.

"Yeah?"

"I've been talking for the last five minutes. About the time I went off on a tangent about scarves and you didn't chime in, I realized you didn't catch a word I said," he comments, a light grin on his face. He's not offended- he never is. Kurt takes a sip of his grande nonfat mocha that the boy sitting across from him had ordered and tries not to look so distracted.

"Sorry, it's just…" he doesn't need to finish. The softening around the edges of Blaine's eyes tells him he understands.

"It's Puck again, isn't it?" he whispers. Kurt bites his lip, but nods. Blaine sighs and looks directly into Kurt's eyes. He's not happy.

"Kurt…I don't know why you keep putting yourself in this situation. When I first met you, you were happy and ready to take on the world. You knew what you wanted, and you refused to stop until you got it. Now, you're all tangled up in this guy who won't even leave his girlfriend for you, hoping that maybe next time, he'll stay with you. You're not you anymore, Kurt. You've…faded."

There's a sadness lacing his words, and Kurt doesn't understand. It's not his sadness to bear. But at the same token, he knows that Blaine will never stop caring as much as he does, and when he cares this much, it's like he can feel exactly what Kurt doesn't know how to explain. His heart hurts.

"I know that. I've thought about this so much, and I understand that things will probably never change, but Blaine…when he's with me, it's like I can imagine everything going the way I want it to. I'm happy," he mumbles the last part, almost ashamed at how he feels. Blaine places a delicate hand on top of Kurt's.

"I know. I just hate seeing you so upset. You know that."

Kurt just nods.

"Whatever makes you happy, Kurt. I'll support you, and I'll be here for you every time, okay?" He grins, and his companion can't help but offer a smile in return.

Leave it to Blaine to make him feel better about the worst situation in his life.

* * *

><p>They have an unspoken agreement to spend their time together wisely. The heavy make out sessions (sometimes more, sometimes less) are often followed by silence. A simple enjoyment of one another's company. But as Kurt lays there, his mind rushing to figure out what time Santana might call tonight, he can't stop the words. They're there, right on the tip of his tongue.<p>

"Why don't you stay tonight?"

The body next to him stiffens.

"Kurt…I can't."

"That's what you always say. But why, Noah? Why can't you just turn your phone off this time?" the hurt is seeping into his words, even though he wants it to stay out. He shouldn't be feeling this way right now…this desperate, achy feeling inside of his chest. An itch he can't scratch. Puck sits up, leans over, and turns on the light on the nightstand. Kurt squints at the harsh light.

"You know how Santana is. I can't just ignore her. Bad things will happen, Kurt. She'll flip her lid, and then where will that land us?"

"Away from her?"

"You know it's not that easy. She'll figure it all out, spread it around the school, and make all of this worse for the both of us. It's not a good idea."

They're excuses, and Kurt knows it. He knows it so deeply that he considers, briefly, fighting it. But those words are so soothing, his voice is so smooth, and his lips are upon him again before he even has time to process what's happening.

He kisses back fiercely, twisting his arms around his neck and opening his mouth just slightly, just enough for Puck's to dart in carelessly. Kurt's hands are wandering. They're fingering the muscles in Puck's back, and just as Puck detaches their lips to kiss his neck, the vibration of a phone against the glass nightstand cuts through the air.

Puck stops, resting his nose gently in the crook of Kurt's neck. The ringing stops. Silence for a minute or two, then it begins again, almost more persistent, more urgent. He sits up, grabs the phone, and nearly the same conversation as the night before is repeated. The same steps, a dance they both remember all too well, this one ending in a light kiss on a cheek.

Kurt is alone again.

He calls Blaine.

* * *

><p>"What do you think's going down with Puckerman?"<p>

It's a question that's innocent enough, but makes Kurt stiffen slightly as he stands at his locker. He eyes Mercedes' reflection in his mirror.

"W-what do you mean?" he stammers, and he wonders briefly if she realized it. She seems not to notices as she shrugs.

"He just seems…not like Puckerman. I don't know. Maybe I'm just overanalyzing things. You ready, boo?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

And he slams his locker closed, the sound reverberating in his ears.

* * *

><p>It's Friday the next time Puck slips in through his basement window late at night. He'd been sitting silently on his bed, reading an old copy of Vogue and wondering if he was actually going to come. He does, and he's urgent. Everything is fast and desperate, and Kurt is entirely taken aback, but he goes along with it because it's <em>Puck. <em>And they go farther that night that he'd thought they would, but it feels right and there's three words edging on the tip of his tongue that he's too afraid to admit might be real.

* * *

><p>The next day, Kurt cancels his plans with Blaine because Puck calls and tells him he wants to go somewhere with him. Kurt spends an hour and a half deciding what to wear, and another 45 minutes making his hair look perfect. Puck comes, Kurt goes, and they drive for an hour and a half before Puck pulls over by a lake. He grabs a cooler out of the bed of his truck and a blanket. It's all so ridiculously cheesy, but at least he's trying.<p>

They sit and start eating before Kurt speaks.

"Why did you bring me here?"

Puck is silent for a few minutes, picking at the grass on the edges of the blanket.

"I guess…I guess I just figured that since Santana is out with Brittany all day today, we might as well take some time to actually do something real instead of just what we usually do. I mean, that's real, too, but this is real in a different way."

Kurt nods, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Why? Is this okay?" Puck seems mildly nervous, and Kurt isn't used to it.

"Yeah, definitely."

"Good," Puck says with finality, smirking slightly. Now reassured, he falls back into his old self, throwing out comments that make Kurt's face burn red and always keeping contact between himself and his companion.

It's nice, normal even, and Kurt lets himself think, just for the day, that this is how it's always going to be.

* * *

><p>The next few weeks carry on in the same pattern that Kurt has watched his life fall into over the last five months. And every time Puck comes, every time he slips into his room and makes him feel like he could be happy, he leaves with a quiet kiss on the cheek and not a second glance back, and Kurt is left, laying in bed with new tears leaking out of his eyes and wondering how in the world he got here.<p>

* * *

><p>"Kurt…" Blaine's voice is warm, worried, and full of warning. They're sitting together on Kurt's living room couch while Burt and Carole are on an overnight trip, and Finn is out with the Glee guys. Kurt had opted out in favor of dinner and movies with Blaine at home. Their empty plates sit on the coffee table, the meal that Blaine had made already gone. Kurt had just finished telling Blaine about his day with Puck weeks ago because school at gotten in the way, and he hadn't been able to explain yet.<p>

"What, Blaine?"

"It's just that something about this doesn't ring true to me. It's like he only gets real with you every once in a while, to make sure you stick around with him. He's not giving you everything, just enough to make you feel like you're happy. He's…" Blaine trails off. Kurt won't let it go.

"He's _what, _Blaine?"

"He's using you, Kurt. He's using you," the words are quiet, but he's looking in his eyes. Those hazel eyes are flashing between anger, sadness, hurt, and concern, sliding between the different emotions almost faster than Kurt can catch them. He feels his throat close up a little.

"He's not using me. He's just doing the best he can. He's right. If he breaks up with Santana, she'll find out about us, and then things will get worse for the both of us. We'll just…we don't need anybody else to know, and I can deal with it. I'm fine."

"Don't pull that crap with me, Kurt. I know you better than you know yourself, and I know when you're lying. It tears you apart to watch him leave every single time. You're so close to breaking down, Kurt, and it's his fault."

Kurt's eyes are burning. He just wants to watch the movie and forget about this.

"I just want you to be with someone who actually loves you, Kurt, who's going to give you everything they have and expect nothing in return because they just love you so much. You don't deserve what he's giving you, Kurt. You deserve so much more."

He feels a bubble rise in his chest, a bubble of anger, remorse, fear, even.

"And where exactly am I supposed to find that, Blaine? In case you didn't notice, there's not exactly a ton of gay guys lining up outside my door, just waiting for me to choose one of them. I know that Puck and I aren't going to last forever, but at least I have this now. Everybody else gets to have someone to spend time with like Puck and I do in high school, so why can't I? I have this opportunity, why can't I take it? There's nobody else I can have this with, Blaine, so what am I supposed to do?"

He's crying now, as he knew he probably would. The tears are rapidly falling from his eyes, and Blaine looks like the entire world just crumbled to his feet. But he looks Kurt in the eyes, slowly bringing his hand to his cheek and wiping at a tear with his thumb. Everything is silent. Kurt can't breathe with the way Blaine's eyes are bearing into him. It's like he can see every single thing Kurt has ever thought, felt, or believed. His eyes are searching for something inside of him. He doesn't know if he found it, but suddenly he's slowly, hesitantly leaning forward, and Kurt is following suit. Then all he can feel is Blaine's lips on his own, slow and smooth, and he doesn't think he's ever felt so many things in one instant. His calloused hands are still holding the sides of his face, and all he can do is press gently against Blaine's lips in return.

As suddenly as it started, it ends. Kurt's eyes are wide, staring at his best friend and obviously wondering what exactly just happened. Blaine looks like a cross between sadness and complete shock.

A beat.

Then Blaine stands hurriedly, grabbing the plates from the coffee table.

"I'm gonna go wash up from dinner," he mumbles as he turns and leaves to the kitchen. Kurt stays seated for a good ten minutes, replaying the kiss in his head over and over again. He doesn't understand.

So he goes into the kitchen, stopping at the island as he watches Blaine's back as he scrubs dish after dish.

"Blaine," his voice is calmer than he expected it to be. Blaine stiffens, but doesn't turn around. "Blaine, you can't just kiss me and then expect me to forget about it."

"Why not?" It's so quiet that Kurt nearly doesn't catch it. His heart breaks, just a little bit.

"Just…why? Why did you kiss me?"

A dish clangs against the sink. The water is still running as Blaine turns around. His eyes are red.

"Why _wouldn't _I, Kurt? I've known you for two years, and I've been in love with you for a year and a half. And I just…watching you fall apart, watching you fade into the background of your own life while this guy completely destroys you…I couldn't handle it anymore. Something inside of me just gave up trying to fight it. And you were right there, so I kissed you."

Kurt's heart is still stuck somewhere around the word _love_. His head is pounding. He doesn't know what to say as he stands there, looking at Blaine's ungelled, curly hair, his pink v-neck shirt and black cardigan, his dark jeans clinging to his legs. Blaine Anderson is his best friend, and he's standing there, looking completely crumbled.

"Why?" he mutters, looking into Blaine's eyes.

"Why what, Kurt?" he looks drained, tired.

"Why do you love me?"

More than anything, Kurt is curious. If Blaine really loved him so much, how had he never seen it? How could he have never seen that his best friend was in love with him? But Blaine lets a small smile slide onto his lips, a light slip into his eyes. He shuts the water off slowly before turning back to Kurt, eyes full of something he has never seen before.

"I love you because of everything you are, Kurt. You're handsome, beautiful. You have the most amazing voice I've ever heard. You are ready to take on the world to get what you want at any second. You are the bravest person I know, but also the most forgiving. You stand up for yourself, and you refuse to let other people dictate your life. You have dreams bigger than this town, and I know that you're going to get out of here and really make something of yourself. You know who you are, and you don't let other people tear you down. You are strong, loving, caring, talented, gorgeous. You are everything I had ever hoped to find, Kurt. You make me want to be a better person. The fact that I am in love with you is the only thing I've ever known without a doubt, Kurt. I can't just ignore that." It's as if once Blaine started speaking, he couldn't stop; as if he'd been holding it inside of him for so long that he just couldn't shove it down any longer. It was a relief to finally tell Kurt how he'd been feeling.

Kurt wants to speak but he doesn't know what to say. His heart is so full of things he doesn't understand, and it's beating _so fast_. A silence settles for a few minutes before Blaine seems to make his decision and makes his way over to Kurt. He entwines their fingers together with one hand and places the other on Kurt's hip. He rests one side of his head against Kurt's and lets out a breath.

"Kurt, I love you. I am ready to give you every single thing I have. I don't know if you love me, too, and I'll be okay if you don't. But if you do…if you do, I'll be waiting for you when you're ready to love me. When you're ready to say goodbye to Puck and let me be yours, I will be waiting for you. Until then, I'm still here. Whenever you need to talk, just call me. I promise you, that's never going to change."

He presses a kiss to Kurt's temple before turning and walking out the door.

Kurt slides to the ground with his back against the island, his fingertips resting gently on his lips.

* * *

><p>That night, Puck comes again, and Kurt easily forgets about everything that happened that day, letting it slide away and focusing only on Puck and how he makes him feel.<p>

It's when the window is closing, and his room is silent that Kurt realizes just how big the hole in his heart has become.

The only thing he thinks might fill it is a boy sitting alone in his room, toying with his guitar an hour away.

* * *

><p>"Finn? Can I…can I ask you something?" Kurt is hesitantly standing in Finn's doorway. Finn looks up as he pauses his movie.<p>

"Sure, Kurt. Come on in," he offers with a grin. His brother enters and sits with his legs crossed on the bed, "What's up?"

"I need…your advice."

Usually, there's no way he would go to Finn for advice, but Finn's the only person he knows who really might be able to help him figure out what to do.

"Okay," he says, dragging out the last syllable, "what about?"

Kurt bites his lip.

"So, remember when you were with Quinn even though she was still dating Sam?"

"Yeah?" Finn is confused.

"Well, let's say you were in that situation again. And you thought you might be in love with Quinn, but she's still with Sam, and all you ever really do is…the physical…stuph, except for maybe once or twice every few weeks when you go on a real date. And Quinn keeps saying that she's going to leave Sam for you, but she hasn't yet, and it's really starting to hurt. And then say…Rachel, who's always been there for you to talk to about things and is really your best friend, suddenly tells you she's in love with you, only, pretend you didn't know that yet, and now you just don't know what to do. Because being with Quinn is just hurting you, and Rachel is in love with you, but you don't know which one of them you actually love. Who would you be with, Finn?" He barely stops for air. Finn gets the feeling that this isn't really about him, Rachel, and Quinn. But he decides to humor his brother.

"Well, I guess I would confront Quinn. I would see if she really loved me like she said she did. If she did, she'd break up with Sam, and I would be with her. If not, then there's really no competition," he says, smiling. Kurt nods, thoughtful.

"So you would talk to Quinn, and then go to Rachel as a second option?"

"Not exactly. If I really loved Quinn, I would confront her. If she actually loved me, then we could be together because she would break up with Sam. If I didn't love her, I would just break it off. If I didn't know, I would probably talk to her anyway. I think that would probably show me who I really loved."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. Thanks, Finn. You're a great brother sometimes," Kurt says with a grin. Finn laughs.

"Sometimes? I'm the best older brother in the world!"

Kurt simply laughs and climbs off the bed, getting ready to leave.

"And Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"Whomever this guy is that's not leaving his boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever for you is a total idiot," he comments with a grin. Kurt smiles softly and nods before turning and walking out the door.

Finn really is a great older brother.

* * *

><p>When Puck comes that week, Kurt is sitting up on his bed, staring silently at the wall. He has a somber look on his face, and his phone is clutched in his hands. Puck goes to kiss him, but he turns away.<p>

"Okay…that's new."

"Noah, we need to talk."

"The last time a chick said that to me, she brought up my credit score," he says, in an attempt to make a joke. Kurt scoffs.

"I'm not a chick, Noah."

"Right, I know. I was just…" he trails off because he doesn't know what else to say, "So, what do you want to talk about?"

"Noah, do you love me?"

Kurt doesn't feel like beating around the bush. Puck collapses onto the bed and runs a hand down his face.

"Uhm, what?"

"It's a very simple question, Noah."

"Kurt, it's not that simple. I don't even know if I know what love is, let alone if I feel it. You know how I am I don't…feel things very easily." Puck is awkward, and Kurt is getting frustrated.

"So, you don't even know if you feel anything for me?"

"Well, of course I feel something, I just…I don't know if it's love, exactly."

Kurt heaves a sigh and looks at Puck, his hands twisting in his lap as he looks down at them. He sits down next to him.

"Noah, we've been doing this for a long time. This whole…nighttime thing, and then you leave just because Santana calls, and I'm left alone. And I miss you when you leave. I've put up with it for all this time because I kept kidding myself into believe that you cared about me, and that you were going to leave her for me soon enough. But that's not happening, is it?" His voice is soft because he already knows the answer. Puck puts a hand on his knee.

"Kurt, I already told you-"

"I don't care about the school knowing. Don't you understand that? They've been messing with me for years, Noah. It's you who cares. It's you who doesn't want your image ruined."

"That's not it, Kurt!" Puck is getting mildly desperate, "I just don't want you getting hurt. You think those football jocks will like it if they find out you have a boyfriend?"

"I don't _care! _I don't care if they beat me up, I don't care if they slushee me, I don't care, Noah! I just can't stand to watch you leave out the window every time you come here, like I don't even matter. I can't handle that anymore, Noah."

"I'm sorry, Kurt. I'm really really sorry."

Kurt nods slowly, then stands and walks to the other side of the room. He looks at Puck.

"Listen, Noah…I care about you. I care about you more than I probably should, but I can't keep doing this. It's too much. You need to choose right now. Me or Santana."

Puck is silent, staring at the carpet. Kurt bites back a laugh.

"I used to be so dependent on this relationship, you know that? I could not even imagine just leaving you instead of putting up with all of this. But I don't have to live this way anymore, Puck. I'm not going to beg you to stay anymore. You see, I've given you everything I have, but I don't get back anything I need. So next time you decide that you want to leave Santana's bed for mine…why don't you just stay?"

Puck sighs, looking at Kurt.

"I do care about you."

"Okay, Puck. Now please. Leave."

And he's gone.

Kurt sits on his bed, knees pulled to his chest. The tears are coming, he knows they are. He presses speed dial and waits.

"Kurt?"

"Blaine, could you…could you come over? Please?"

"Of course, Kurt. I'm on my way."

* * *

><p>Blaine comes down the stairs 45 minutes later and immediately sits down next to Kurt, rubbing circles on his back. He's crying, even though he's not sure exactly why. He moves closer to Blaine, resting his head on his thigh.<p>

"I don't even know why it hurts so much. He never loved me, I don't even think I ever loved him. It's just that…I'm really going to miss him."

Blaine nods.

"I know, Kurt."

He continues drawing circles and shapes on Kurt's back, running his fingers through his hair, letting him feel everything he needs to feel, and not giving him any I-Told-You-So's, simply letting him be.

Kurt had never been more grateful.

* * *

><p>Puck has been off for a week, everyone can see it, and Finn's drawn some conclusions of his own. First, he punches Puck in the face. Then he corners Kurt on his way out of the bathroom at the house.<p>

"Go tell Blaine," he says, a small smile playing on his lips. Kurt is startled.

"Tell Blaine what?"

"That he's your Rachel."

Kurt is so stunned that it's when Finn is already in his bedroom that he yells, "Just when the hell did you get so smart?"

* * *

><p>Nevertheless, Blaine is interrupted while writing a new song when David comes into his room.<p>

"Hey, Wes wants you. He's outside, by the fountain."

"Uh, okay?"

Wes has never done something like this, but Blaine chooses to go along with it, pushing his feet into an old pair of Converse, grabbing his pink sunglasses and heading out of his dorm. He makes his way outside and to the fountain where he sees, not Wes, but Kurt, standing, staring up at the grandiose piece of decoration. He's flawless, as always, and Blaine has to catch his breath. He suddenly feels entirely self-conscious in his simple grey t-shirt and blue jeans.

Kurt catches his eyes and grins as Blaine pushes his sunglasses onto his head. He shoves his hands into his front pockets and wanders over to his best friend.

"Well, you sure as hell aren't Wes."

"Disappointed?"

"A bit. I was really looking forward to seeing him," he comments lightly, his lips pulling into a smirk. Kurt laughs.

"Well, I could go get him, if you so desired," he offers with a grin, turning to leave. Blaine catches his wrist lightly.

"Nah. I think I'm alright with you."

"If you're _sure…_"

"I am."

They stand in silence for a few moments, neither willing to speak. They start walking aimlessly, and Blaine's curiosity gets the best of him.

"So why did you dangle the promise of seeing dear old Wes in front of me only to snatch it away?"

Kurt's laugh rings out quietly.

"I was afraid that if you knew it was me, you wouldn't come," his voice is vulnerable, honest. Blaine furrows his eyebrows.

"Why wouldn't I come?"

"I've just been so dependant upon you these past few months. You've always been fixing me, and I just thought…I just thought that maybe last time we saw each other, with my breakdown and everything, that maybe you didn't want to deal with it anymore."

"Kurt, I would never-"

"I know that. You didn't let me finish."

Blaine is quiet again, and Kurt lets out a puff of air.

"The thing is, when I start to care about someone a lot more than usual, I get really self-conscious. I start to worry that maybe they don't care about me anymore, maybe they're just preparing to say goodbye. I don't really trust people to stay."

It is then that he, hesitantly, grabs Blaine's hand and slides his fingers into the spaces between Blaine's. Blaine bites back a grin.

"But you see, I realized that I don't have to be afraid of that with you. I'm not going to wake up one day and see that you're gone or that you don't care anymore. I don't have to beg you to stay with me or ask you to be with me because, strangely enough, I'm what you want. And that terrifies me and makes me the happiest person in the world."

Kurt stops walking, bringing Blaine along with him, and they stand in the middle of a field as the sun sinks gently beneath the trees. He swings their entwined hands slightly and looks into hazel eyes, grinning.

"I don't know quite yet if I love you, Blaine. But what I do know is that you mean more to me than anyone else in the world. You make me happier. You love me more. You put me in a place where I don't have to doubt anything, I can just be myself and still be happy. I don't have to be alone anymore because…well, because I have you," the words stop momentarily, and Kurt chuckles lightly, "And really, this is turning into the biggest gay romcom I could've ever dreamed up, but somehow…I kind of love it."

Blaine laughs as he looks up at Kurt. Then slowly presses their lips together again, this time with much more confidence and clarity. Kurt smiles against his lips, bringing his arms to rest gently on Blaine's shoulders, his hands hooked lightly behind his neck. Blaine grabs onto Kurt's hips and pulls him closer, finally letting out every emotion he'd had in that year and a half, and he truly doesn't think he's ever been happier.

Slowly, reluctantly, they pull away. Kurt is breathing deeply, not because he's out of breath, but because kissing Puck was never like that, and he doesn't know why he hasn't been with Blaine all along.

"So, Kurt."

"Yes, Blaine?" He can't stop grinning.

"I was wondering if maybe, you'd like to stay a while?"

Kurt laughs softly, pressing his lips to Blaine's quickly.

"I'd like that very much, actually."

* * *

><p>Kurt sneaks back into the house much later, a grin lighting up his entire face. Finn is waiting for him in the living room.<p>

"I had to cover for you big time, little bro."

"I know, I know."

He stops at the basement door, his hand resting on the knob.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Any time."

* * *

><p>That night, for the first time in six months, the basement window leading to Kurt Hummel's room stays firmly closed and locked the entire night, and Kurt falls asleep without feeling like he's missing something he'll never find.<p> 


End file.
